


The First Taste

by dirtiebertie17



Category: The Walking Dead
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-14
Updated: 2016-08-15
Packaged: 2018-08-08 19:47:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7770697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dirtiebertie17/pseuds/dirtiebertie17
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Follows Rick and Michonne from their first kiss on the couch and progesses from there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1: Mints

“Have your mints, ” Rick offered, as he lightly tapped her hand three times. 

Michonne barely heard Rick above the sound of her own heart racing, fueled by the rush of adrenaline that involuntarily coursed through her body in what must have been a reflex reaction to his touch. She had experienced something akin to this particular sensation before in those moments when they shared a furtive glance; an unspoken, mutual understanding; a quick brush of his fingers against her skin. But here they were, alone, relaxed, and at the moment, not fighting for their lives. ‘This is different’, she told herself in the split second before she curled her fingers upward to interlace them between his lingering ones. Even if she had wanted to, she was powerless to stop herself from revealing her insatiable need for the man she considered her best friend. ‘This is what I want for me,’ she finally admitted to herself, while she waited nervously for his reaction. 

Rick swallowed reflexively in response to Michonne’s subtle, intimate overture. It had taken him a second, but once he processed what was happening, he became fully invested in ensuring that it continue. He excitedly, yet gently, responded in kind to Michonne’s gesture, humbled by the fact that she had exposed her vulnerability by seemingly making the first move, although his initial contact had been, as always, an invitation. As slight as her movements were, he understood that it was a risk for her to open herself up to him, let alone anyone, in this world gone to hell. 

‘God, she’s so beautiful’, he thought, as he turned to gaze into her eyes. The smile on his face grew wider when he saw her look of trepidation dissipate briefly into disbelief before fixing on desire for him. He wanted her, too. Badly. And now that they were finally able to breathe, they could acknowledge the feelings that had slowly developed between them. Rick knew she was waiting for his next move, but despite his eagerness, he wanted to take it slowly and savor every moment of discovery, at least initially. Still holding her hand, he leaned into her, his mouth watering in anticipation. As she brought her lips to meet his, the distance between them eliminated, he knew that this was the beginning of something different. Something right. Something perfect. 

Michonne struggled to catch her breath in the brief, yet decidedly infinite time it took for Rick to bring those perfect lips of his to hers. As she closed the gap, every nerve ending seemed to quiver in anticipation of the kiss for which she realized she had been longing. The sexy combination of lust and tenderness he conveyed with the first touch of his mouth to hers started a chain reaction sending all sorts of electrical activity throughout her body. ‘I can’t believe this is happening’ she admitted to herself, her thoughts racing to catch up to their diligent tongues, and yet what was happening was the only thing that made any sense to her. 

“Wait..wait..wait a minute,” Rick whispered, annoyed by the physical nuisance that was his gun and holster. “I got…a gun between my legs. Need to get it out. Damn it.” He reluctantly pulled away, unstrapping his belt and placing it on the coffee table, muttering “Fuck” just before hearing Michonne’s bashful laughter, the sound of which drove him wild. He turned back toward her, his eyes teeming with hunger, and murmured, “Ok, I’m good to go.” 

“Good,” Michonne responded as she entwined her fingers through his curls, quickly getting over her shyness. Rick moved in for another fervent kiss, his tongue obviously eager to make up for the precious few seconds spent apart from hers, and Michonne had no qualms about granting him entry. ‘God, he feels so good’, she thought, getting lost so completely in the warmth of his touch that she wasn't sure she ever wanted to be found. 

Dissatisfied with their upright position on the couch, Rick slid his hand down to her waist and expertly guided her lithe body below his, but not before taking a moment to smile and gaze into her radiant eyes, silently conveying all the things he needed her to know. He loved that she seemed a little shy, almost demure, and utterly removed from the steel-eyed, fierce, take-no-shit-from-anyone fighter that he admired so. This version of Michonne, he surmised, was ever-present but hidden away from everyone save a precious few who were given privileged access to her heart. In this moment, Rick was cognizant of just how fortunate he was to be one of them. 

Michonne, in turn, marveled at his eyes, the depth of their blue rivaling that of the sea, and the dichotomy they posed. They could be tempestuous and savage, a necessary response to the brutality of their world, but more often than not they exposed the decency and compassion of the man who brought her back to life. As Rick took command of this fortuitous turn of events, he paused one more time to take in every feature of Michonne’s gleaming face, unable to suppress that impassioned, almost disbelieving grin of his. “Fuck,” he shouted in his head while every part of her, from her luminous complexion, to her full, succulent lips decimated what little self-restraint he had left. 

Michonne whimpered, breathy from the physiological effects Rick’s touch was having on her, and as his dexterous hands and tongue continued scouring for rewards, his low moans sent her over the edge. She was no longer responsible for her actions, she realized, having abandoned all inhibition and rational thought. “What is this man doing to me?” she questioned, unable to discern anything other than the fact that she liked it. Tremendously. 

Michonne could feel the physical manifestation of Rick’s feelings against her thigh, his hardness a direct contrast to his loving, affectionate overtures. She could tell that he was hungry for her, his ravenous mouth another dead giveaway, but despite his healthy appetite, he managed to imbue his touches with a tenderness she found absolutely enthralling. 

Rick’s fingers began a playful dance along Michonne's hips, gliding and waltzing their way up underneath her shirt along the contours of her taut belly until they reached the base of her bra. Undeterred, he cupped one of her voluminous breasts, fulfilling a long held desire, but was agitated by the hindrance that the fabric posed. Her tilting of her head back, coupled with her audible moan, was all the permission he needed to continue his pursuit. Just as Rick began to remove the obstacle in his way, Michonne reluctantly pushed against his chest, spurring a confused, crestfallen expression to temporarily form on his otherwise perfect face. 

“Rick, wait. We shouldn't do this here,” she cautioned, keenly aware that things were about to escalate quickly. “What if Daryl walks in? Or worse, Carl?” 

Relieved that Michonne was only temporarily thwarting his advances, he sighed, resting his forehead on hers in acknowledgement of her propriety. Of course she was right. She usually was, but that didn't prevent him from feeling slightly annoyed by the delay. He had waited so long and patiently for this, but now that it was happening, all self-control was quickly dissolving. 

“Shit. Yeah, okay,” he sighed again, the corner of his lips turning upwards in an unabashedly devilish grin. “So what'll it be? Your place or mine?” 

With Rick still on top of her, and all traces of reserve gone, Michonne decided without hesitation. “Yours,” she insisted emphatically, surprising herself in the process. She was astounded by the prospect of sharing Rick's bed and wanted to be completely enveloped by not only his body, but his scent, his aura, the very air that he breathed. Under normal circumstances, Michonne would have silently cursed herself for showing her hand so obviously, but this was Rick and these were no ordinary circumstances. She didn't care if he realized how voracious she was for him, and realize it he did. 

He smirked at her impetuosity, delighted, but not surprised, by her sudden boldness. He took her face in his palms, beamed a smile that told her that her feelings were unequivocally reciprocated, and delicately kissed her before whispering, “I'm ready when you are.” 

Michonne squeezed his upper arms and giggled at the feel of his breath against her ear while still trying to wrap her brain around what was happening. “Don't think,” she reprimanded herself. “Just go with it. This is what you've wanted for so long.” She propped herself up on her elbows, leaned in to echo his delicate kiss with one of her own, and suggestively guided her leg along the inside of his thigh, instigating an almost imperceptible series of tremors along his body. She, however, noticed. “I'm ready.” 

Rick gently slid his body off hers, pulling her up with him as he stood, neither of them breaking eye contact nor relaxing the blissful smiles plastered on their faces. With his arm around her waist he began to guide her toward the stairs, but just as they were about to ascend, they muttered in unison, “Wait.”

They paused, eyeing each other curiously, then each sauntered over to the object that evoked their outburst. Michonne navigated her way to the mantle while Rick returned to the scene of the crime, grabbing the gun and belt off the coffee table. As he turned to see the katana in her hand, he chuckled, tilting his head sideways and downwards in that undeniably sexy way he always did. Michonne laughed back, flashing her gleaming white teeth, a result no doubt of her regimented dental care routine. 

No words were necessary as they rejoined at the base of the stairs, her katana draped along her back. Michonne, still laughing, playfully nudged Rick with her hip. He responded by putting his free hand on her perfectly round bottom, pushing her slightly up the first step, and licking his lips as he watched those glorious muscles undulate back and forth as she ascended. 

“You're staring at my ass right now, aren't you?” she asked, already knowing the answer. 

“Uh huh,” he teased. “You know I am.”

“Like what you see?”

“Uh huh,” he breathed, his smirk perceptible from the inflection in his raspy voice. “You know I do.” 

“Oh, I know,” she smirked back, pulling him in as he reached the top step right behind her. She placed both hands on his face, lightly stroked the soft stubble outlining his jaw, and gazed at her future in his impossibly blue eyes. “I like what I see, too.”


	2. Magic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things progress to the bedroom...

Chapter 2: Magic

Rick smiled, kissed her reverently, grabbed her hand, and then pulled her into his room, the door already slightly ajar. Michonne heard herself gasp when the realization of what was about to happen hit her. She could have sworn she heard the same reaction in Rick's breath, and the thought of him being as eager as she was only turned her on more, if that was possible. 

He brought her to the foot of the bed and instructed Michonne to wait there while he put his gun on the nightstand, removed her katana, and then placed it on the other side. Michonne relished watching him, admiring the way his muscles flexed and relaxed with his movements even when obscured by clothing, and decided right then and there that she was going to make it her life’s goal to feel every part of his flesh against her own bare skin. 

As he returned to meet her, his body mere inches away, she recognized the expression on his face; he was now a man with a singular mission. He had his eyes set on her, and god help anyone or anything that stood in his way. She certainly wasn't going to let anything impede her either, including his buttoned denim shirt. As incredible as it looked on him, it had to go and although she had already begun the process of removing it in her mind, she wasted no time in emancipating Rick from its confines. Unsurprisingly, his toned, sinewy torso felt as good as it looked, and she could feel the heat rising between her inner thighs accordingly. Damn. 

Rick stood there, captivated by all that he saw of the incredible woman standing before him, curious to make new discoveries and unravel hidden secrets meant only for him. He swallowed, let out the breath he hadn't realized he was holding, and tenderly laced his fingers under the straps of her tank top and bra, gliding them to the side as he dotted her shoulder with achingly slow kisses. 

Michonne slowly eased her head back, wavering between wanting him to pick up the pace and relishing in him taking his sweet time. He took notice of her exposed neck and made the most of the opportunity causing her to breathlessly cry out his name. In her excitement, she pressed her body into his, her momentum forcing him against the bed, landing him in a seated position.

Rick enjoyed this new vantage point, loosening his hold around her waist to tug at the bottom of her shirt, guiding it up past her navel to uncover the first of many landmarks he hoped to explore this evening. He dusted soft pecks across her abdomen as he reinforced his grip at the sides of her waist, the combination of aggression and softness once again wrecking her. She unfurled a series of shrieks while his mouth managed to find the most sensitive zones, her ticklishness another facet he delighted in discovering. 

As much as she enjoyed Rick's affection for her belly, Michonne was already missing the feel of his lips against hers. She lifted his face up to regain access to them, but first she wanted to see his reaction as she gracefully removed her top, dropped it to the floor, and lowered herself to straddle his lap. Stupefied and with mouth agape, Rick froze, rendered dumbstruck by her glorious form. Michonne took advantage of his state and began nibbling his delicious lips as slowly and delicately as she could without losing her composure. “Fuck,” he groaned in between mouthfuls, suddenly lacking any ability at eloquence or intelligibility. She could tell that her deliberate pace was driving him wild, which served him right, she thought, for torturing her moments ago with his subtle grazes and feathered touches. 

When he could no longer stand it, Rick reclaimed control and enveloped Michonne in his powerful arms, his tongue voraciously seeking out hers, the peaks of her still-covered breasts pressed firmly against his bare chest. Needing to remedy the situation immediately, he lowered his nimble, calloused hands from behind her neck, fumbling with the stubborn clasp on Michonne's bra just long enough for her to gaze into his hungry eyes one more time before those mesmerizing blue orbs placed their attention elsewhere. 

Rick's breath grew labored as the splendor of Michonne's unveiled breasts eclipsed all other entities or concerns. He needed to taste every inch of them, but not before surveying the terrain. He had often, more often than he was probably comfortable admitting, imagined what they looked like underneath her tight shirts, and although he had conjured up a pretty picture in his mind, nothing prepared him for the real deal. He loved their fullness and the way their peaks announced their unmistakable craving for attention. Not wanting to disappoint them, Rick snaked his fingers underneath one before cupping it in his palm, elevating it slightly, and lavishing it with his utmost care and consideration. 

She tasted so sweet, her glistening skin responding to his ministrations in ways that only encouraged his tongue to more frenzied action. As she involuntarily arched her back in response, fortuitously granting him greater access, Michonne murmured “Rick” several times in between erratic breaths. He had always loved hearing his name escape her lips, and she in kind loved saying it, but in this new context her voice was a siren luring him to his downfall; a fate that he welcomed without question. 

Realizing that he had been ignoring her other breast, Rick playfully traced circles along its perimeter with his thumb, decreasing the diameter with each loop until he fixated on her erect nipple. Pinching it slightly in between his thumb and index finger, a lascivious grin plastered across his gorgeous face, he peered up at Michonne, gratified to see the obvious effect he was having on her. Her rounded peak, as delicious as its counterpart, quivered beneath his touch just before invading his mouth. 

Rick was thirsty and Michonne was the oasis at the end of a long, arduous drought, but this wasn't a desperate man’s attempt to satisfy vague, basic urges with just anyone. He actively chose her, she chose him, and despite all those nights when he yearned to feel the warmth of her body against his, he had waited for her and would have continued to do so until she was ready. Though damn, this was sweet. Her curves felt incredible to his touch, a salve for all the wounds he had incurred in the battle for survival. 

Michonne’s blood surged through her body replenishing the oxygen she was positive would run out at any moment. Rick’s mastery of her anatomical form took her breath away and she was certain that he would be the death of her. ‘Definitely not the worst way to go,’ she mused as he came up for air before turning her over on his bed, his form once again on top, aligned with hers. 

Continuing his expedition, his hand expertly began its descent from the summit, traversed the flat, sculpted plains of her torso, then snaked its way down toward her lush valley. He studied her face all the while, mentally taking detailed records of every response to identify potential hot spots and future seismic activity. He wanted to make her explode, and he knew he was well on his way to that end. 

“These need to come off,” he grunted, fiddling with the zipper of her tight, form-fitting pants. “Now.” Realizing rather quickly that removing them would not be easy, he propped himself up for more leverage, hooked his fingers along the waistband, and inched them down, shimmying them past her hips to reveal her low cut panties that somehow managed to stay on. 

Michonne wanted to do everything she could to help him expedite the process, so she elevated her rear off the bed, thrusting her pelvis towards him. Rick clearly appreciated her efforts, his flushed face and the small beads of sweat forming along his temples telegraphing his body's response to her movements. She chuckled as he clearly struggled to extricate her from her clothing, the first thing he'd come even remotely close to failing at all night. 

“How the hell do you even get into these things?” he queried, finally getting them below her knees, before he slid them off completely in one fell swoop. His eyes drifted back to her panties; the last barrier in his way on this enlightening, highly satisfying expedition. 

“I have my ways,” she answered playfully, pulling him back in from his stupor for a taste. 

“Yeah, I bet you do,” he smirked, returning her kiss with another. Ironically, he could feel his own pants getting slightly tighter as Michonne ran her hands down to their brim, although they were so worn and baggy at this point, it was a wonder his belt held them up at all. She tugged at the clasp, loosening it enough to be able to slide his jeans past his delectable ass. She could feel his muscles clench as she grabbed both cheeks and squeezed, his low moans reverberating off her chest. He finished removing his pants and boxers, then repositioned himself where he had maximum access to every delicious part of her. 

“You’re perfect, Michonne,” Rick whispered; his soft, adorable smile effectively conveying his boundless love and adoration for her. He touched her face and then kissed her with a tenderness she didn’t think even him capable of. Michonne swept a stray curl from his forehead, stroked the sides of his face, and beamed back, trusting that he knew how much she loved him.

Rick’s hands wandered again, never tiring of grazing over the endlessly fascinating architecture of her body. “Oh, oh...Rick,” Michonne cried out when his deft fingers slid under her panties, bathing in the evidence of her arousal. She was so wet for him that he could feel his heartbeat pulsating throughout his body, his manhood practically erupting from the anticipation of taking refuge in her sanctum. He removed her last remaining article of clothing and marveled at her lustrous folds, amazed that this woman was granting him full access. His eyes lingered there for a moment before returning to gaze into hers. 

Although his fingers were working their magic, and he was clearly the attentive and generous lover she always imagined him to be, she wanted to grant him the sweet release she knew he so desperately needed. Practically reading his mind, she reached for his shaft and guided it towards her center, wordlessly giving him permission to do with her what he willed. Rick, happy to oblige her as always and ready as hell, gently eased himself into her welcoming entrance. As her walls closed in around him, he felt the weight of all responsibility, worry, and sorrow melt away. He loved how wet she was for him and how assured and uninhibited she had become in his bed, free from any distractions or possible disruptions. 

Michonne moaned as she closed her eyes, wanting to momentarily focus solely on the sensation of Rick inside her. “You feel amazing,” she confessed in his ear, undulating her body in rhythm with his virile yet affectionate thrusts; delighted but not surprised by how accurate her occasional fantasies of him had been. 

“So do you,” he murmured, his already healthy confidence growing with each moan that escaped her lips. He continued his cadence, working his hands over her bare flesh, savoring the novelty of this experience with her while appreciating that this was only the beginning of their intimate relationship. “I love your body,” he professed in between heavy breaths, visibly worked up by the sight and feel of her. 

The sound of Rick’s voice had always been one of his many features that she found ridiculously attractive, but hearing it now in this amazing new context pushed her close to the edge. Michonne, in turn, could feel his pulse racing and his breathing becoming more erratic. He was getting close, they both felt it, causing a hint of trepidation to appear on his face. “Should I pull out?” he rasped, his throat hoarse from a combination of dehydration and excitement. 

He was pushing all the right buttons, saying all the right things, and she wanted nothing more than to please him back. “No, it should be ok,” she replied after mentally counting the handful of days since her last period. “I want you inside me.” 

Hearing that brought him to the brink, and as his body trembled, she wrapped her fingers through the curls behind his neck, damp with sweat, and held his face close, wanting him to get lost in her eyes as he climaxed. He shouted, “Chonne..oh Chonne, fuck!” right before giving in to the sweet relief, briefly forgetting that the children were sleeping in the adjacent rooms, hoping like hell he didn't wake them. 

Rick panted as he collapsed on top of her, resting his forehead at the base of her neck as his arms and legs seemed to give out on him, practically all of his energy spent. Michonne reveled in the weight of him; his toned, hard body a welcomed alternative to the oppressive, crushing sensation of grief and fear that typically pressed down on her. 

She lightly breezed her hands up and down his back, sneaking in a twist of his locks every time they returned to his neck; this physical intimacy with him her new favorite thing in the world. They remained entwined together, both reluctant to yield any contact with the other, making up for all the lost time spent apart. 

As his breath slowly returned to normal, he swallowed, parched yet sated, still processing the fact that Michonne was finally his. “I'm sorry,” he hushed, barely able to form words. Sensing her confusion, he kissed her before she could reply, then added, “It’s been a long time and I...” He looked down, adorably embarrassed, almost ashamed. “I was excited.” 

Michonne giggled at the sight of this flustered, sweetly bashful version of Rick Grimes, amused by the fact that he thought he had done something to apologize for. Hoping that he didn't think she was laughing at his expense, she brushed another stray lock of curls out of his eyes and brought her forehead to meet his before assuaging his concerns with a kiss. 

“Hey. Shhh,” she whispered, unable to resist running her fingers across his trimmed beard. “I was excited, too.” She glanced over at the clock on the nightstand as his eyes followed her gaze; a wicked smile forming on both their faces as they realized how young the night was. 

“Correction,” she avered devilishly before taking another nibble of his upper lip. “I AM excited.” 

Her words were a shot of adrenaline and Rick suddenly felt a surge of renewed energy coursing through his muscles. He beamed, thrilled by the prospect of reciprocating the pleasure she had just given him. 

“Yeah,” he nibbled back. “Me, too.”


End file.
